Scraps. [An anthology, ed.] by H. Jenkinsesq Henry Jenkins 1864 |
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Страница 31
... thought , There is not a truth by wisdom taught , There is not a feeling pure and high , That may not be read in a ... thoughts within me rise , And , sore SCRAPS . 31.
... thought , There is not a truth by wisdom taught , There is not a feeling pure and high , That may not be read in a ... thoughts within me rise , And , sore SCRAPS . 31.
Страница 35
... thought proper on the fish , and it should be instantly paid him . " One hundred lashes , " said the fisherman , “ on my bare back , is the price of my fish , and I will not bate one strand of whipcord on the bargain . " The nobleman ...
... thought proper on the fish , and it should be instantly paid him . " One hundred lashes , " said the fisherman , “ on my bare back , is the price of my fish , and I will not bate one strand of whipcord on the bargain . " The nobleman ...
Страница 40
... thought of the morrow . We thought as we hollow'd his narrow bed , And smooth'd down his lonely pillow , That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head , And we far away on the billow . Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's ...
... thought of the morrow . We thought as we hollow'd his narrow bed , And smooth'd down his lonely pillow , That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head , And we far away on the billow . Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's ...
Страница 72
... thoughts within us burn To feel a friend is nigh . Oh ! shall not warmer accents tell The gratitude we owe To him who died ... thought she has it not . Caroline Fry . HOME . HOME ! There's magic in that little word 72 SCRAPS . The Savage ...
... thoughts within us burn To feel a friend is nigh . Oh ! shall not warmer accents tell The gratitude we owe To him who died ... thought she has it not . Caroline Fry . HOME . HOME ! There's magic in that little word 72 SCRAPS . The Savage ...
Страница 77
... Thought could hold the distant friend ! Conder . O CHILD of grief ! why weepest thou ? Why droops thy sad and mournful brow ? Why is thy look so like despair ? What deep , sad sorrow lingers there ? Thou mourn'st perhaps for some one ...
... Thought could hold the distant friend ! Conder . O CHILD of grief ! why weepest thou ? Why droops thy sad and mournful brow ? Why is thy look so like despair ? What deep , sad sorrow lingers there ? Thou mourn'st perhaps for some one ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
Ajax Allan Water ancient Antony appear Ashton beauty blessed blood Boswell breath Brutus Cæsar called Canaan Cassius Christian Cominius conversation Cordelia Coriolanus dear death delight divine dost doth earth Egypt fair Falstaff father fear feel fire fool Garrick give grace hand happy hath hear heart heaven holy honour horse hour hyd y Iago Ivanhoe Jews Johnson Judea king labour lady land Lear light live look Lord Macbeth Mark Antony Master Menenius mind morning nature never night noble o'er observed Othello Pandarus passion Patroclus peace pleasure poor praise pray Prince Henry Ravenswood religion Scotland seems Shakspeare sleep smile sorrow soul speak spirit sweet talk tears tell thee Thersites thine things thou art thou hast thought tion truth virtue voice walk word youth
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Страница 373 - That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Страница 373 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.
Страница 56 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Страница 372 - With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! For Hecuba! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?
Страница 298 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ! I feel my heart new opened : O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes...
Страница 54 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or' the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Страница 427 - And ever against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running; Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony: That Orpheus...
Страница 44 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Страница 328 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.
Страница 229 - More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold ; That is, the madman : the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt...